


All My Favorite Colors

by denialno4



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Cancer, Depression, Gen, M/M, Religious Guilt, suicidal thoughts/ tendencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denialno4/pseuds/denialno4
Summary: At 21 years of age, Tyler Joseph was a dying man.





	

The sound of shallow breathing could barely be heard over the accompanying electronic beeps of the heart monitor as the sharp tone cut through the thick resounding quiet. Tyler grimaced, suddenly uncomfortable as a chill racked his frame ever so slightly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he drew the covers over his head, pressing them against his ears in a futile attempt to drown out the noise with silence.

He shifted beneath his place from underneath the white sheets. They smelt of the sterile cleanliness that was a constant in all hospitals, something Tyler had gotten used to long ago. His family had stopped bringing flowers long ago, after he asked them to stop ( _because the smell was overwhelming, sharp in the sterile air and with enough time they would start to rot and the smell was toomuchtoomuchtoomuch_ )

A vague memory of the not so distant past stirred from within his consciousness, conjuring the soft vanilla floral scent of potpourri scattered around his home  _(not sharp like the rancid scent of wilting roses, it was always soft, sweet, warm)_ , the smell of hot gravel of his driveway gave off as he played basketball with his siblings _(Jay was going to be a star in the future, only getting better as he grew older; Tyler could tell)_ , spices from the rack in the kitchen when his parents cooked dinner for the night _(He couldn't remember the last time he ate something other than the crappy hospital food, not like he could keep it down either way_ ).

Tyler felt his insides twist. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. He shut off his thoughts the best he could, burrowing himself even further into the stiff sheets.

He fell back into the easy silence that was created, comforter pressed firm against the shell of his ear. In this case, it’s important to understand what was meant by the usage of the word “easy”. It did not refer to the comfortable, peaceful lull that the quiet would bring on a bright afternoon. Rather, think of it as how easy it’d be to be pulled under the surface of water, a whirlpool dragging you deep, deep below no matter how much you would struggle, only to find yourself at the very bottom of the sea, dark and bleak. Alone. It was as if the very pressure of the entirety of the ocean weighed down on Tyler’s frail shoulders, the pressure of all of his thoughts, his regrets, mounting until he felt as if he were suffocating.

An indeterminate amount of time had passed, seeming as if it had stopped altogether. Or perhaps, that the concept of time had never existed in the first place. But Tyler knew that once he released his palms from their placement over his ears, he would be met once again with the steady sound of the heart monitor; each singular beep emanating from the machine, like a countdown.

Like it was mocking him.

He’d rather the silence smother him than have to listen to it. Tyler was aware that he couldn’t just stay in his place beneath the sheets forever, eventually he would have to come up from his place under the sheets for some reason or another. But for now he could at least pretend that his bones didn't ache when he moved, pretend he isn't cold at all times, that it didn't hurt too look his family in the eyes for more than a moment at a time because he couldn't stand the way they looked at him ( _Was it pity? Or was it disappointment? He can't tell the difference between the two at this point_ ).

_How sad,_ a voice cooed from the recesses of his mind. Tyler pressed chapped lips into a thin line.

 

_How absolutely pathetic_ , it snarled, as if it were speaking with it's teeth bared. Tiny cracks grew as the skin split, spreading red lines marring the dried skin. The voice speaking to him was his own.

 

A raspy voice crawled out from his throat past bleeding lips, cutting off his inner monologue.

“I know.”

 

How could it even be possible to deny it at this point? The thought was almost laughable.

He can admit it. He had come to terms with the facts long ago.

 

At 21 years of age, Tyler Joseph was a dying man.

 

Shallow breaths evened out in time with the beat of the heart monitor, the monotonous tone chiming sharply from the corner of the stark white room.

Sleep finally accepted him into her embrace as his eyelids slipped shut.

**Author's Note:**

> hey frens, here's this thing i've been working on. I'll do my best to update but i'll admit i'm really bad at that. 
> 
> I've actually been working on this for a while but i had set it aside and i just couldn't upload this part before because i felt as if it were too short, but i think once this goes up i'll make longer chapters. just think of this as an intro prologue. i'm still experimenting with my writing style so i'm sorry if it seems pretentious or redundant at times.
> 
> Please use caution when reading in future chapters because some of the subject matter for the plot can be triggering. 
> 
> this is mostly inspired by the cover of cancer top had done for the black parade anniversary a few months ago, you should totally listen to it if you havent already.
> 
> if you're reading this, thank you for giving this fic a chance. chances are if you like this and maybe leave a cheeky kudos or comment, you'll probably be my favourite person ever. |-/


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